WILLIAM. I will be king of England by the laws, The choice, and voice of England. MALET. Can that be? WILLIAM. The voice of any people is the sword That guards them, or the sword that beats them down. Here comes the would-be what I will be ... king-like ... Tho' scarce at ease; for, save our meshes break, More kinglike he than like to prove a king. _Enter_ HAROLD, _musing, with his eyes on the ground_. He sees me not--and yet he dreams of me. Earl, wilt thou fly my falcons this fair day? They are of the best, strong-wing'd against the wind. HAROLD (_looking up suddenly, having caught but the last word_). _Which_ way does it blow? WILLIAM. Blowing for England, ha? Not yet. Thou hast not learnt thy quarters here. The winds so cross and jostle among these towers. HAROLD. Count of the Normans, thou hast ransom'd us, Maintain'd, and entertain'd us royally! WILLIAM. And thou for us hast fought as loyally, Which binds us friendship-fast for ever! HAROLD. Good! But lest we turn the scale of courtesy By too much pressure on it, I would fain, Since thou hast promised Wulfnoth home with us, Be home again with Wulfnoth. WILLIAM. Stay--as yet Thou hast but seen how Norman hands can strike, But walk'd our Norman field, scarce touch'd or tasted The splendours of our Court. HAROLD. I am in no mood: I should be as the shadow of a cloud Crossing your light. WILLIAM. Nay, rest a week or two, And we will fill thee full of Norman sun, And send thee back among thine island mists With laughter. HAROLD. Count, I thank thee, but had rather Breathe the free wind from off our Saxon downs, Tho' charged with all the wet of all the west. WILLIAM. Why if thou wilt, so let it be--thou shalt. That were a graceless hospitality To chain the free guest to the banquet-board; To-morrow we will ride with thee to Harfleur, And see thee shipt, and pray in thy behalf For happier homeward winds than that which crack'd Thy bark at Ponthieu,--yet to us, in faith, A happy one--whereby we came to know Thy valour and thy value, noble earl. Ay, and perchance a happy one for thee, Provided--I will go with thee to-morrow-- Nay--but there be conditions, easy ones, So thou, fair friend, will take them easily. _Enter_ PAGE. PAGE. My lord, there is a post from over seas With news for thee. [_Exit_ PAGE. WILLIAM. Come, Malet, let us hear! [_Exeunt_ COUNT WILLIAM _and_ MALET.